


In the Shadows

by Laeviss



Category: World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Glory Hole, Kink Meme, M/M, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 21:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5142650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeviss/pseuds/Laeviss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anduin visits a Black Market club seeking anonymous sex. But the orc who pleasures him turns out to be the last person he would have requested. (Written for the LJ Warcraft Kink Meme )</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Uninformed Consent

Nerves didn’t set in fully until Anduin found himself standing before the stall doors. The club atmosphere- dark and energy-charged in all the ways one would expect from a Black Market establishment- had kept his adrenaline high, and it wasn’t until he was faced with the choice before him that the reality of _what he was about to do_ hit him like a flood. With one last, deep breath, he stepped into an empty stall and plunged himself into darkness.

It seemed like an eternity until he heard the door next to him open and shut. When it finally came, it came with a bang, and the heavy footfalls that followed clearly belonged to one of the larger races. He waited for a moment, and then whispered in Orcish (going with his guess): “Hello? Is someone there?”

 “Elf?” Came a grunt reply. Anduin thought he recognized the voice, but couldn’t place it: an accent from somewhere near Stormwind, perhaps?

 “No, human.” He answered. His voice sounded small in the darkness.

 There was a long pause, and finally, another curt response. “Fine,” he said in Orcish, and then followed up in clumsy Common, “It’s fine.”

 “Good.” And just when Anduin thought they were going to spend their time in the darkness exchanging multi-lingual banter, he heard the low _thud-thud_ of footfalls and the jostling of lacings as the person beside him took a step forward.

 Feeling along the wall, Anduin quickly located the hole, wider than both of his hands but barely able to contain the cock inserted through it. His hands closed around it; it was thick, textured by a pronounced vein on its underside and a row of studs running from head to base. His hands quivered in spite of himself. The orc, for this was clearly an orc, let out a sharp exhale.

 “You ever been with an orc before?” It was as if his mystery partner could read his mind.

 “I have not.”

 “Heh.”

 Unsure how to respond to such a smug laugh, Anduin gave in and did what he had wanted to do since first laying hands on the unfamiliar orcish flesh: he pushed back the foreskin in a long, steady stroke and ran his finger down along the slit.

 This earned a grunt from the other side of the wall, and suddenly the orc’s chuckle was forgotten. Encouraged, Anduin moved his palm over the head and as far down the shaft as the hole would permit. He lingered on each piercing, his fingers doing little to hide his curiosity as his hand rubbed over top of them.

 Too intrigued to resist, he carefully leaned his cane against the wall and lowered himself down on to his knees. His tongue soon replaced his fingers, running a trail from his bulging head to the crop of hair poking through the hole. The studs tasted of bone, and the man’s flesh beneath his mouth was musky and sharp: rather than putting him off, however, the strange mix of sensual experiences excited him, and he focused on them, committed them to memory, having nothing else to go on in his solitary cell.

 He had already decided that the orc must be Mag’har: as far as Anduin could tell, his skin lacked the luminescent green of most orcs, and his heavily-accented Common only intensified the human’s conviction. And even for a Mag’har, he seemed large; no matter how Anduin tilted his head or stretched his jaw, there was no way he’d be able to fit this cock in his mouth. With every jerk of his hand, the orc’s imposing form seemed to bear down on him, and the ominous feeling swelling in the pit of Anduin’s stomach reached between his legs and pooled beneath the growing tent in his pants.

Finally giving in to his need to be touched, he dropped his hand to his lap and snuck it under his tabard. The orc must have heard the rustling of fabric, because he took a break from his grunting, presumably to listen. Realizing what was happening, Anduin squeezed the front of his trousers and let out a tiny moan against the orc’s head. The orc’s knee knocked with a thud against the wall; Anduin gasped again, his trembling fingers undoing the first two buttons of his pants and slipping down beneath his waistband.

 When they found his cock, already hard against the top of his thigh, he felt a jolt race from top to base, a half-satisfied yelp begging for more contact. He eased it out from the fabric and cupped his palm around the shaft, falling into a familiar rhythm with his strokes as he turned his attention back to the orc (who showed no sign of waning interest despite Anduin’s momentary absence). He earned another sigh as he dragged his tongue from his slit to his first piercing, and a gasp as he teased this bone with a slight purse of his lips.

 The control he seemed to wield over the orc’s reactions was enough to make Anduin’s other arm shake, his grasp on his own cock tightening as his hip bucked into his strokes.

 But just when the prince was starting to feel that he had triumphed over this unfamiliar cock and the orc attached to it, he heard a sharp hiss from the other side of the wall. “I fuck you,” he grunted in broken Common. A blush rose to Anduin’s cheeks.

 “Do you think we can?” He finally found his voice, giving the orc’s flesh a pointed tug. It was _so large_ between his fingers, almost stretching them to full capacity. The thought of it stretching him elsewhere, pounding him and filling him beyond anything he had ever felt, was as terrifying as it was entrancing. But the quiver swelling in the base of his chest and the blood receding from his cheeks like the tide were enough to drive him onward.

 Arousal won out; Anduin let out a soft murmur: “If you think we can…”

 “We can.”

 He nodded and, reaching for his cane, did his best to ease himself off of the floor. His knee nearly gave out beneath him, but he finally rose to the height he needed and worked to push his pants down to his ankles. After a bit of jostling, he found a steady surface in the stall’s opposite wall and used it as leverage. The orc had withdrawn his cock to make room for him, and he, careful not to put too much strain on his leg, assumed the correct position against the open hole.  

 All was going as planned until his crutch, propped precariously against the wall by his hand, tipped to the side and hit the ground with a crash. The sound seemed to echo from every corner, snapping through the darkness and robbing it of its absolute mystery. The orc’s hand, which had dropped down to cup his backside, stilled against him. “What was that?” He returned to Orcish in his surprise.

 “Just…” Worrying that the answer might reveal too much about his identity, it took him a moment to respond. “Just my cane. It fell.”

 “War injury?” The orc asked without pause. Anduin felt one of the knots in his stomach starting to loosen.

 “Yes, it’s still healing.”

 “Hm.”

 Anduin opened his mouth to continue, but the explanation seemed to satisfy the orc. His hand returned to the human’s ass; his palm gripped one cheek while his fingers slipped into the crack. One nudged against his opening, the pad drawing a circle around the rim before nudging against his hole, as if trying him out.

 He bit his lip and pressed his own hands against the surface in front of him, taking deep breaths and willing his muscles to relax, as he had done so often in training, in recovery, and at particularly stressful meetings. How surprising that techniques he had learned to get closer to the Light would come in handy in a dark place like this. But he wasn’t complaining. If it let him be filled by the orc any sooner, he was willing to try anything to make it work.

 The finger at his entrance withdrew for a pause, returning slicker and wetter and pressing inside easier than before. He felt himself stretching to accommodate the knuckle, biting his lip to hold back a hiss at the sting. One orcish finger was larger than several of his own, and only slightly smaller than the toys Wrathion used on him. He was moving into uncharted territory, and he hoped that he would be able to adapt to it.

 Trying to abandon his nerves, he reached down for his slackening cock and wrapped his fingers around it, pumping it slowly until the hardness started to return. The distraction was enough; he soon realized that the orc’s finger was moving in and out with relative ease. When the finger was removed and replaced by something cold and cone-shaped, Anduin managed to take it with a mere whimper reserved for the final moment when it stilled inside of him. It felt heavy- impossibly large, given his size- but its sloped sides rubbed against his wall in all the right ways. The orc pulled it out and pressed it back in, and with its return came a welcome jolt deep between Anduin’s legs. He sighed; the orc forced even more of the toy inside.

 They continued like this for what could have been seconds or minutes. Anduin lost track of the number of times the cone worked itself deeper into his body, concentrating only on the pressure building at the base of his cock beneath his now-slackened palm. He could barely feel his hole stretching now; there was only the toy and its sides putting pressure on all the right places, burrowing deep inside until wasn’t sure where his body ended and it began. His knees quivered, and it took all of his strength to keep his injured foot from hitting the ground.

 But, much to Anduin’s dismay, the toy soon left him with a small ‘pop’ barely audible under the hiss of his uneven breath. He immediately felt empty and exposed, and, as he gave his half-hard cock another tug, he thought only of being filled again. And his wish soon came in the form of something warm and wet sinking through the loosened ring of muscle. Despite all the toy’s preparation, he still wasn’t fully ready for this girth; it stretched him to the point of pain, and it seemed to take an eternity for the head to finally make its way inside. When it did, several inches followed, and he felt even fuller than before.

 He tasted the faint tang of blood on the tip of his tongue, realizing too late that he had been biting down on the inside of his lip. He licked it away and forced his breath to even. Needing the distraction more than ever, he returned to his ministrations on his own cock, sliding back the foreskin and teasing his slit with the pad of his thumb. A warmness swelled beneath his palm, intensified by the weight of the orc pressing beneath it, and a moan escaped his injured lip. Falling into a rhythm with his strokes, he closed his eyes and waited, letting waves of nerves and pleasure wash over him with every jostle and shallow thrust of the orcish shaft. 

 He soon realized that he could feel the orc’s piercings moving against his inner wall. Every time his cock moved inside of him, the smooth nubs rolled and pressed against the surface, massaging him in ways he’d never felt before. Pressure built beneath the base of his cock. He gasped; the orc changed his angle. The bone piercings were replaced by the full weight of his head, dragging along the wall and grazing the spot that sent a flash of pleasure racing through his body.

 He couldn’t stop himself from crying out. “T-there,” he whimpered, and the orc obliged him with a grunt. Again, enjoyment sparked in his core and spread outward. Every nerve felt alive. The cock in his hand gave a jerk, and he met it with a much-needed stroke. Panting and moaning, he leaned forward until his bangs nearly brushed the opposite wall. He replaced his hand with his forearm and leaned his forehead against it. He was surprised how hot and wet his own skin felt.

 The pain of being stretched was long forgotten. Anduin wasn’t sure if his body had finally grown accustomed to the orc’s size, or if he was simply too caught up in the other sensations to notice. The pressure between his legs built with every thrust; he could feel the orc’s cock moving deeper, passing a second ring of muscle and pulling back out of it. His piercings rubbed and teased with every movement, nearly stealing the human’s breath from his throat. He gasped. A few droplets dribbled onto his wrist as his palm stroked over his head.

 “Deeper,” he heard himself cry, completely unsolicited, without a thought paid to it before leaving his mouth. Heat rose to his cheeks, but his embarrassment paled in comparison to the urgent need building beneath his shaft.

 And the orc didn’t seem to mind: he followed up with a long, heavy thrust, a moan of his own echoing through the darkened space. Anduin could have sworn he felt the wall quiver behind him, the Mag’har’s weight and strength barely enough for the surface to take. Anduin’s abdomen bulged to accommodate the intrusion. He shuddered, and, with another jolt, leaked into his palm.

 The pressure inside him mounted, and his entire body sparked to life in a moment of singular, overwhelming pleasure. It spread to the tip of his cock, and, in a flash, released with a splatter onto the ground in front of him. The muscles in his core tensed and then relaxed, and the euphoria that followed left him feeling dizzy and aware, spent and active. He gasped, and another stream of come burst from his head and through his fingers. He slumped forward; his leg struggled to keep him standing.

 Caught up in his own release, he barely noticed that the orc had followed up with his own finish until he removed his cock and left him bare to the chill of his absence. There was a pause, punctuated only by the sound of uneven breath and the slight gape of the wall trying to support the orc slumped against it.

 Finally, Anduin found the Orcish words to break the silence. “Um…t-thanks. That was, well, amazing…”

 “I’m leaving first,” the orc answered, his tone unreadable.

 “Oh, okay. That’s fine! I’ll, uh, well, need a moment.”

 “Don’t leave until I’m gone.”

 He shook his head slightly as he reached for his crutch. After all of that, after the orc’s unabashed preparation of his body and the steady thrusts that followed, he was suddenly too embarrassed to face him? Well, it was probably for the best. He too couldn’t risk being recognized in a place like this, and, after all, the point was to remain anonymous, anyways. “That’s perfectly fine. I’ll stay in here until you’re gone. I promise.”

 “Okay.”

 “Just…thank you, though. It was really fun.”

 “Hm. Yeah.”

 And with that, Anduin heard the door to his side swing open, and a set of heavy footfalls move into the room beyond and up the ramp that had led him here. He waited until all fell silent, and, after wiping his hand as well as he could on the wall in front of him, eased himself down and pulled up his pants.

 He used the other wall for leverage, but even with that support it proved a difficult task. His uninjured leg ached from overuse, and the muscles of his lower back burned when he tried to straighten them. That, paired with the quivering remnants of his orgasm, weakened his knee and distracted his fingers, but he finally managed to button his pants and right his tabard. With that, he opened the latch and stepped out into the empty hallway. Drawing in a few careful breaths, he paused, regained his composure, and headed up to the bar.

 When he rounded the corner and made his way into the main room, he discovered that it was emptier than when he had left. A few trolls gathered in the corner, sharing a pipe between them and paying little heed to Anduin as he emerged. A kaldorei and a sin’dorei were equally occupied by the bar, caught up in a kiss that, he knew, would elsewhere be condemned. He smiled to himself, making his way over to the counter for a glass of water and a place to wait for Wrathion’s arrival. He leaned his cane against the wall and eased himself onto a chair, sore but grateful to at least get off his feet.

 But the clack of his cane seemed to get someone else’s attention. He could feel a pair of eyes on his back the moment he sat down, and the gaze grew more persistent as he pushed back his sweaty bangs and reached down to readjust his tabard. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, he soon found the source: golden, orcish eyes, eyes that had haunted his dreams for months after his brush with death on that cliff in Kun’lai. Eyes filled with malice, hate, aversion, confusion, and fear.

 Garrosh Hellscream’s eyes.

 Every muscle in Anduin’s body tensed; his hand dropped to his belt, searching for the wand he had, regrettably, left behind in the inn. For one long, horrifying moment he waited for Garrosh’s attack, wondering if he would use physical force or threats of exposure to his father and the rest of the Alliance. Either way, Anduin had to be ready. He reached inside, grappling to find the Light in the shadows, desperate for some semblance of protection to counter his sudden feelings of exposure. He held his breath; Garrosh continued to stare.

 When the wave of fear finally started to ebb, however, Anduin realized where the orc’s gaze had landed. His cane. His eyes studied it, his frown deepening as he looked from Anduin to the cane and back to Anduin. Was Garrosh showing remorse? No, something else was definitely wrong.

 The cane. Anduin had dropped the cane in his stall. His stomach gave a painful lurch: the realization came with nausea on its heels, and behind it, a burning shame that turned his paled cheeks crimson. The large Mag’har, the orc he had pleasured and who had filled him to completion, had been Garrosh Hellscream. His fingers shook around the glass in their grasp, sloshing water where the evidence of his own satisfaction had been less than an hour before.

 His own satisfaction at being taken by Garrosh Hellscream.

 Their eyes met, and a silent understanding seemed to pass between them. Garrosh looked equally alarmed and disgusted, and his cheeks, too, seemed a few shades darker than usual. For a few moments, it was as if they were alone in the room, for all Anduin could see was Garrosh’s golden gaze and the faint purse of his lips around his tusks.

 Finally, slowly, Anduin curled his lips into the faintest hint of a smile. As uncomfortable as he was, there was no reason to forget the pleasure he had felt from the orc behind the wall. In a way, knowing who it was, and what they had done, added to his excitement in ways he was too embarrassed to fully comprehend. He nodded, and, after Garrosh returned the gesture, he turned back his water and tried his best to calm his nerves.

 He had played a daring game, but, after everything that had happened downstairs, he couldn’t help but feel that he had emerged victorious.  


End file.
